


A Headache Named Vala

by gatesmasher



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Attempted Poetry, F/M, Headaches & Migraines, Humor, Romance, assault with a loaded icepack, attempted nursing, reference to 'The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time'
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-06
Updated: 2014-04-06
Packaged: 2018-01-18 10:30:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1425205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gatesmasher/pseuds/gatesmasher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daniel has a migraine. Guess who's volunteered to play nursemaid to him?</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Headache Named Vala

**Author's Note:**

> The many miseries plaguing migraine sufferers are detailed in this story! Anyone with emetophobia (if you don't know it, you probably don't have it) should proceed with caution! ;-)

  
"Oh no." Daniel dropped his pen, blinking with dismay at the report in front of him. "Not this."

"What's wrong, Daniel?"

 _Aaand_ so it gets worse, he thought sourly.

He'd forgotten Vala was there, sitting at the other end of his desk. Hard to believe but true, she'd been unusually quiet as they both finished up their reports from SG-1's last mission.

"Daniel?"

He blinked some more, tilting his head a various angles. Nope, no use. "Migraine," he stated.

Vala peered at his report in confusion. "What's a migraine?"

"A kind of headache." He pulled off his glasses, rubbing at his right eyebrow. "From the Greek, hemikrania: pain on one side of the head." He sighed. "There's no pain there yet, but there will be."

She frowned. "And how are you seeing it on that boring report?"

He blinked now at an empty spot on the wall. "Not on the report, in my eyes, a _scintillating scotoma_ ," he said, knowing he was being irritatingly obscure, but helpless to stop. "It starts as a disruption of the visual field. Right at the center of focus. Damn it." He tossed his soon-to-be useless glasses to one side.

For Daniel the 'aura' he perceived was actually rather beautiful: bright sparkly geometrical shapes that shimmered and flashed in a rainbow of translucent colors, spreading out and taking over his visual field. A beautiful shining harbinger of pain and anguish. Not unlike Vala herself, he reflected.

"It'll grow bigger and bigger until I can't see a thing," he continued. "It'll go away eventually, but the headache part will start in an hour or so and I'll be worthless at that point."

"You're never worthless to me, darling," Vala assured him.

Daniel looked at her, wincing at the unsettling view of her lovely face blurred by a kaleidoscope of crazy color, bouncy pigtails above and snug tank top below still intact. Um, not that he cared about how lovely her face was. Because he didn't. At all.

"Just sit down for a while, it'll go away," she claimed breezily. "I mean how long can it last?"

Daniel gave a hollow laugh. People who'd never had a migraine were uniformly clueless. "The worst one I ever had was four days long."

"Four _days?_ " she asked in alarm.

"Yeah." He sighed. "Four days of lying in a dark room most of the time and vomiting my guts out the rest of the time."

"Let's get you to the Infirmary."

***

Both Mitchell and Sam had joined them by the time Dr. Lam finished her useless exam. There was no actual foolproof 'cure' for a migraine. Daniel sat on a gurney, squinting at everyone through the psychedelic haze clouding his vision, the first hint of what would soon be a world of pain was just beginning to tweak to life behind his right eyebrow. He shut his eyes with a wince, the bright lights in the Infirmary starting to bother him. Light sensitivity, right on schedule. Sensitivity to sound and smell would be following soon.

"A 'sick headache' huh?" Mitchell said, peering at Daniel like he was a specimen in a petri dish.

"A neurovascular disorder is the accepted definition," Dr. Lam said dryly.

"My ma and grandma both used to get them," Mitchell continued. "Be out for a couple days at a time."

Lam nodded knowingly. "Yes, the condition does affect more women than men for reasons not entirely understood."

Daniel waited for a typical cruel jab from Vala but none came. He crack an eyelid to see if she was still in the room. He could barely make out the grin she flashed him that was somehow both innocent and impish, but she didn't say anything.

"It's been a while since you had one," Sam remarked with a concerned frown.

"Yeah, I'd hoped they were starting to go away."

Lam nodded knowingly again. "Yes, people tend to outgrow them over time."

Okay, Lam and her knowing nods were starting to get irritating.

"Bad one?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, feels that way," Daniel confirmed.

"Could it be your reading glasses?" Lam began. "Eye strain can sometimes--"

"New prescription," Daniel said flatly.

"Isn't there a pill for this?" Vala asked.

"I've tried a few over the years, but they don't really work for me," Daniel said. "Plus I tend to just throw them up anyway."

"What about a sub-lingual pill?" Lam suggested.

"The dissolving ones?" Daniel asked with a shudder. He remembered the last one he'd tried, the way it turned to chalky grit under his tongue. "They make me sick even faster."

Lam shrugged. "Not everything has a cure."

Lovely bedside manner. "How about an induced coma?" he snarked pointedly.

The medical doctor gave a sour smile. "Not generally advised. You've lived with this for years, the best expert at getting you through it, is you."

"Yeah," he sighed. "All I need is privacy and an ice pack."

"You need someone to take you home and stay with you," Sam countered.

"Jack did that a couple times," Daniel said. "Of course he mostly just sat in the living room and watched hockey."

Sam grimaced. "He's not around and I'm not sure who we can spare at the moment."

"Oh! Pick me!" Vala shouted, jumping up and down with her hand raised like a crazed kindergartner offering to pass out cookies. "I volunteer!"

"No no no!" Daniel protested immediately. "That's okay, you don't--"

"You sure, Vala?" Sam overrode him. "He's pretty whiny when he's sick."

"I'm not whiny and I don't want--!"

"Pish!" Vala flapped one hand dismissively. "I've had experience handling even the youngest of children."

"I am not a child and I can--!"

"You don't have anything going on for the next couples days?" Mitchell interrupted to ask Vala.

"Nope. I was already scheduled to be at Daniel's disposal." She aimed what was probably a lascivious wink in Daniel's direction, made all the more disturbing by the fever-dream fog he currently viewed the world through.

"No, I can drive, I'm fine!" Daniel insisted. He stood up, taking one blind step and crashing into Dr. Lam's tray of very noisy metallic medical supplies. He rebounded, overcompensated and stumbled off in the other direction until Mitchell caught him.

"Whoa!" Mitchell said, holding Daniel steady. "Settle down there, Chainsaw!"

"I can drive as long as all I need to see is..." He squinted some more. "Um, five to ten percent of the road..."

"Right, Jackson," Mitchell drawled, guiding Daniel back to the gurney. "The Highway Patrol might have a different opinion." He turned to Vala. "Princess, go grab your gear, you got a invalid to minister to here.

"Oh, goody! A road trip! Give me a minute to pack!" Vala left the Infirmary at a run.

Daniel plopped back down on the gurney like a thwarted toddler. "Sam, can't you drive me?" he pleaded.

"No, I promised General Landry I'd have that Gate overhaul done two weeks ago."

"Mitchell, what about you or Teal'c?"

"No can do, Jackson, the big guy and I are breaking out our Sodan moves on some unsuspecting newbies."

"I don't want her," Daniel whined.

"Then stay here," Sam said, exasperated.

"Too many people come knocking when I'm in my quarters," he said with a pout he couldn't contain.

Sam threw her arms up in despair. "So stay in the Infirmary."

"You kidding? Too noisy and crowded in here." He crossed his arms like a sulky second grader.

Sam placed her hands on her hips. "Holy Hannah, Daniel, how old _are_ you!?"

He gave her a sidelong glance, trying to spear her with his best mournful puppy-dog eyes. "Can't remember. Head hurts."

Mitchell snickered as Sam sighed. "Seriously?" she asked, her voice distressingly unsympathetic.

He firmed his crossed arms with a huff. "Fine. I'll get an Airman to drive me home."

"You need someone to stay with you," Sam insisted.

"I don't need a nurse."

"No, you need a babysitter."

He could do no more than glare at Sam through squinted eyes, then Vala bounced back into the room, her bags consisting of a child's koala bear backpack and a neon-pink duffle.

"Ready to go, darling?"

His glare at Sam turned wounded and accusing, "How will Vala wrapping my Jeep around a telephone pole help anything?"

"Don't be silly, darling, I would never crash even that orange monstrosity of yours. Muscles trained me to drive any Tau'ri vehicle."

"Oh, joy." Daniel hung his head, massaging his temples in defeat.

Sam finally took pity on him, giving his shoulder a sympathetic rub. "Daniel, I know how awful these headaches are for you, that's why I want someone with you. Now be a good boy for Vala."

He was all but blind now and the pain over his right eye, already noticeable, was only just starting to ramp up. "But Saaa-aam..." he whined, his utter pathetic-ness no longer an act at this point.

But the Colonel simply waved Vala over. "He's all yours, Vala," she pronounced. And Daniel could just make out the words Sam added in a fervent undertone to the alien woman, " _Good luck._ "

***

Daniel maintained a sulky silence in the Jeep. No, it was a dignified silence.

The light was bothering him so much he had borrowed a pair of aviator sunglasses from Mitchell, not having a pair of his own that wasn't designed to be attached to his regular glasses. But no matter how "cool" Mitchell claimed the "shades" made him, he still felt like a fool wearing them indoors walking through the SGC corridors. It was dicey letting someone guide him along when he could barely see. He'd never forgiven Jack for the time he let Daniel slam into an opening elevator door. The jerk had giggled all the way up to the surface.

With Vala, however... Daniel didn't mind the way she helped him along the corridors and up to the surface. She was actually pretty nice about it, guiding him with a gentle hand to his elbow, not too inattentive, but not too overbearing either. Who knew she could be so nice? Um, probably just eager to get out of the Mountain and drive a car, he assured himself.

But then there was the way she smelled. He never really noticed before. With a migraine, the slightest scent could usually set him off, but her floral perfume was...nice. Well, not really _nice_ nice. It was...unobjectionable.

He needed to get ahold of himself. Migraines always made him loopy, almost like being drunk.

Daniel couldn't handle the walk through the hot sunny parking lot, so Vala had left him next to the security station, fetching the Jeep and coming back to him where he leaned dejectedly against the wall, hiding in the biggest patch of shade he could find.

Vala drove efficiently, concentrating on the traffic and the GPS. Thank god Daniel didn't need to give directions, he didn't want to open his eyes more than a crack.

Leaving the car in the driveway, Daniel let Vala guide him to the front door of his house even though his sight was almost back to normal by now. It wasn't that he needed her hand on his arm, he just...didn't want to trip over the porch steps.

Once inside, he paused at the edge of the foyer, one hand on the wall propping himself up, the other slipped under the sunglasses he still wore, rubbing at his temple.

"You don't really have to stay here, you know, no matter what Sam said," he offered.

"I'm staying," Vala insisted.

"Fine. Okay, uh, there's a guest bathroom down the hall there." He gestured to a hallway that branched off to the left. "I'd prefer that you didn't use the master bath for the time being."

She cocked her head curiously, looking like she was trying to decide if she should be offended or not.

"I might have to get in there in a hurry when I'm nauseous, in order to, uh, you know." He gestured vaguely at his mouth, not wanting to be crude.

"Toss your cookies?"

He grimaced. One guess as to who taught her that phrase. "Mitchell's a national treasure," he grumbled. "Anyhow, kitchen's through there." He waved at the living room in front of them, to the kitchen bar counter barely visible off to the left. "It's actually pretty well stocked at the moment. I'm sure you can figure out anything you want to eat."

"What about you, shall I fix something for you?"

He shook his head. "I won't be eating for a while. Maybe some crackers eventually. But when you do eat, please could you stay out here and don't come near me? The smell of food is revolting right now and sounds of someone eating..." He shuddered.

She arched a brow.

"Uh, sorry, nothing personal."

Her arch look dissolved to a smirk. "Eat out here, and chew with my mouth closed. Got it."

His responding smile ended with a wince. Even his face hurt at this point. "Uh, for sleeping there's the couch there," he pointed at the living room again, "or there's a futon in one of the spare bedrooms," he waved down the hall again, "linen closet here for sheets and towels and pillows."

He squeezed his eyes closed, rubbing harder at his temple, the thrum of pain ratcheting up the longer he stood and talked. Let's see, Vala got bored so easily, he better stave off that fight before it got started. "So, entertainment," he stated. "Lots of books and magazines around, uh, television, uh--"

"Daniel, I'm here to help you, not to be entertained or waited on."

"Okay. Good." That was promising, maybe she'd actually take this seriously. He found himself just standing there for a moment, staring at Vala, thinking how nice it was that he could see her face now, her pretty grey eyes...

"Daniel?"

He blinked. He always got dopey when he got a migraine. "Uh, I'm going to go lie down now." He gestured off to the right, to the master bedroom entrance.

"You do what you need to. I'll just settle in on my own."

"Okay. Good," Daniel repeated. He stood there a moment more to gather his strength, then walked slowly into his bedroom.

The first thing he did was close the window blinds, making it as dark as possible despite the sunny day outside. He changed into a pair of old sweatpants and a long sleeved t-shirt, then padded barefoot to the en suite master bathroom to check that there were no obstacles in the way of what was sure to be a mad dash sometime soon.

Lastly, he went to a footlocker he kept filled with wintertime supplies. Riffling down to the bottom, he found an old and worn flannel blanket with a faded design of red and yellow blossoms interspersed with pale green leaves. He took it back to his bed and eased himself down with a sigh, lying on top of the bedspread, flipping the blanket out to cover himself. He realized the blanket only landed on half of his body and he still wore the sunglasses, but he couldn't be bothered to move. He just lay there, breathing and feeling the thrum of agony build in his head.

"Knock, knock," Vala called, entering the room through the open door. Her steps were soft so she must have taken her shoes off. "I must say, Daniel, your house is a tad on the austere side. Did thieves steal half your furniture?"

"We never have team nights over here, so I never bothered."

"Hmm. It looks like they stole half your bed. Why is it so small?"

It was a twin bed someone at the SGC had passed down to Daniel after he Descended. He'd always meant to get a bigger one, but just never got around to it. "How big does it have to be to hold one person?" he griped, then regretted the remark. There was a definite note of pity in the short silence that followed from Vala.

"Well," she continued brightly. "Let's get you situated." She plucked the sunglasses off his face, Daniel flinching in surprise, his head giving an answering throb. She tidied the blanket, jostling both the bed and him.

"Ah! Vala, stop it! You're making it worse!"

She reared back, honest contrition on her face. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to."

He rubbed his forehead. "No, I'm sorry. This just...makes me short-tempered."

She regarded him with cocked head. "I know you're no stranger to pain, Daniel. You've been hit with a hand device and shrugged it off like a stubbed toe. Why is this worse?"

"That simply hurt," he said. "This...this is _misery._ " He let his arm flop back down to the bed.

"All right, what _can_ I do?" she asked, enunciating every word with quiet care.

"Um, well, I usually make an icepack."

"I can do that," she stated, cheerful again. "Crushed ice from the refrigeration unit?"

"From the freezer, yeah, but don't crush it, that makes it melt faster and it doesn't last as long or stay cold enough. Just put some cubes in a plastic bag and wrap it up with a damp washcloth."

"Got it," she said after a pause, walking out of the bedroom.

Crap, he was being kind of rude. "Uh, please and thank you!" Daniel belatedly called, then winced at the throbbing that effort caused.

When Vala brought the icepack in a few minutes later, he made sure to say thank you, but she just smiled. "It's okay, Daniel, I knew what I volunteered for. I'm not expecting you to play host to me."

"Good," he muttered. "Because I'm going to be the worst host ever." He grabbed the icepack greedily and pressed it against his right eyebrow, engulfing the whole area including his eye in blessed relief, sighing with satisfaction.

He could hear the frown in Vala's voice as she said, "Daniel, you'll get frostbite."

"Don't care."

"You don't care if your eyeball freezes into an ice cube?"

"I just wish I could get the ice _into_ my head somehow, that would be great," he said, then mused, "Maybe some kind of Asgard beaming technology?"

There was a pause. "Daniel, you're starting to scare me."

"I used to fantasize about getting a super sharp icicle and stabbing it into my skull."

"That's horrible! Isn't that called a lobotomy?"

"Yeah. That was the downside."

"All right, hands off the pack. I'm positioning it myself and you're not arguing."

Vala peremptorily lifted the pack up. Daniel glared but had trouble maintaining it in the face of Vala's own glare, which was at least three times more threatening than his. Hard to believe those soft grey eyes could turn so steely when she was angry. And she definitely had a height advantage considering she was standing at his bedside.

"Now. Exactly where does it hurt the most?" she inquired with the patience people normally reserve for dealing with recalcitrant preschoolers.

Glare dissolving into a pout he pointed to the inner part of his right-hand eyebrow.

Squeezing the icy cloth-wrapped bag into shape, Vala carefully placed it on his forehead, just barely covering where it was needed.

He started to reach for it. "If I could just--"

"Touch that and I cut your hand off," she stated flatly.

He stopped abruptly. "You're worried about me getting frostbite but you're going to cut my hand off?"

"Yes," Vala confirmed, grey eyes growing steelier by the second.

Daniel huffed, dropping his hand back down to the bed in surrender. Well, she _did_ get the ice on the right place, and 'just barely covering' was still _technically_ covering. And he supposed that it _was_ safer this way.

"I'm going to remove it every ten minutes to make sure your skin's blood flow isn't compromised."

He gave a petulant grunt, pointedly closing his eyes.

The bed shifted as she stepped back. "All right, what now?"

"Nothing," he sulked. "I lie here for as long as it takes 'til the stupid headache goes away."

"You just lie here in the dark?"

"Yep."

"In pain?"

"Misery."

"And you did this for four days once?"

"Oh yeah. Good times."

"It...it doesn't seem fair. I wish there was something more I could do--well, something more your doctors could do."

Daniel opened one eyelid a slit and peered out. Vala looked as concerned as she sounded. "I did ask Dr. Sunshine for an induced coma but she refused," he said.

Vala struggled and failed to suppress a smile. "Carolyn did the best she could, I'm sure."

"I know." Daniel closed his eyes again, shifting to get comfortable, relishing the way the ice was beginning to take the edge off the sharp pangs coursing through his head, slowly dulling them to mere throbs.

It was nice that Vala was concerned, but there truly wasn't much anyone could do. Sam was just being overprotective. All he could do was lay there in a dark room and think, think about how much his head hurt and how long this was going to last and how much time he had until the nausea started. It was always the same, he couldn't read, he didn't feel like talking, the TV was annoying, the stereo was too much trouble, and the radio never played anything he wanted to listen to. There was absolutely nothing to distract him from--

"Shall I read to you out loud?" Vala suddenly offered.

That...would be a distraction. "I...I guess so," Daniel said tentatively.

"Such a charming invitation, darling, how can I resist?"

"Only if you don't mind."

"I don't, or I wouldn't have offered. Now what do you have here?"

He could hear her looking at the books on his bedside table.

"Hmm..." she mused, then to the tune of thuds, thumps and snaps of covers being shut, she rattled off her verdicts: "Too heavy. Too boring. No pictures. Paragraphs too long. In unknown and probably boring language--"

"Ow," he groaned at one especially loud thump. "Can you trash my library a little more quietly?"

"Sorry, darling, but you have the most appalling taste when it comes to books. Oh, what's this one?"

"Kind of hard to tell when my eyes are closed."

"It has paper covers and a cutout of an upside-down dog on the cover. It's called 'The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time'."

"Oh yeah, Sam gave me that at Christmas but I never looked at it," Daniel said. "I don't really read fiction, but she said it was good."

Vala recited the blurb: "'Despite his overwhelming fear of interacting with people, Christopher, a mathematically gifted, autistic fifteen-year-old boy, decides to investigate the murder of a neighbor's dog and uncovers secret information about his mother.'"

"That's the one," Daniel confirmed.

"Well, if Samantha recommended it, it must be good."

"Whenever _I_ recommend a book you change the subject," he complained.

"Didn't you say speaking was painful?" came Vala's dismissive reply.

"Humph."

He heard a long scrape as Vala pulled the padded wooden chair he kept by his dresser over to the left side of the bed. "May I turn on the beside lamp so I can see enough to read?" she asked.

"Can you move it so it doesn't shine in my eyes?"

There was another smaller scraping sound and when she turned on the light he barely noticed the difference. "That's great, thanks," he said.

"All right, settle down for story time," Vala announced brightly. "Chapter Two-- Wait, what? Why is it starting with chapter two?"

"How should I know, I just said I haven't read it."

"Don't be snarky, Daniel, it's not attractive."

Rolling one's eyes when they are closed is rather useless, so Daniel resisted the impulse. "What're the next few chapters' numbers?"

"Hmm." He heard the sound of pages flipping. "Three, five, seven, eleven--"

"Oh, prime numbers," they both said at the same time.

"Why bother asking me if you knew the answer," Daniel grumped, but even the throb in his head couldn't stop him from giving a hint of a smile and Vala only laughed.

She began to read: "It was 7 minutes after midnight. The dog was lying on the grass in the middle of the lawn in front of Mrs. Shears's house. Its eyes were closed. It looked as if it was running on its side, the way dogs run when they think they are chasing a cat in a dream. But the dog was not running or asleep. The dog was dead. There was a garden fork sticking out of the dog."

Vala paused, saying reflectively, "I think I'm beginning to understand what 'autistic' means."

She continued on with the reading, Daniel gratefully following along with the story. The grinding pain was just as bad as ever, but it was nice to have something else to concentrate on, something totally outside of himself and his pain, namely, the fictional Christopher and the well-intentioned inquiry which was helped and hindered in equal parts by the boy's autism.

The migraine, however, could not be denied, and not even Vala's vibrant voice could keep it at bay forever. Waves of nausea swelled and ebbed like a vicious tide, swelled and ebbed, every time getting just a little stronger. This was the old game the migraine played. He knew he'd end up being sick, that was not in doubt, but he didn't want to get up too soon, it just made the headache worse, but he didn't want to wait too long, that lead to nasty accidents.

At some point he lost track of the story, although just the sound of Vala's voice was a lifeline. He must have been lying especially quiet and tense because Vala stopped reading and asked, "Are you all right?"

"Fine," he said shortly.

"Shall I keep reading?"

"Yeah."

God, the nausea made him feel so helpless, he hated it. The thought that he could control it just by holding still was ridiculous, like a six year old thinking holding the covers over his head would save him from monsters.

Another sickening crescendo came and went, so strong that he was afraid moving an inch or making a sound would result in disaster, and he lay there rigid as a board, dreading what was about to happen, latched onto Vala's voice like it was an anchor. But when the next bout started he knew he no longer had any choice.

Daniel lurched up, dodged past the chair where an astonished Vala sat, stumbled around the bed, groaned inarticulately in answer to Vala's worried query, and hit the bathroom at a dead run. He skidded to the right, past the double-sink vanity and into the tiny toilet alcove. He barely had time to fling the cover and seat up and drop to his knees before he was heaving, spewing the first load with a disgusting splash, the second heave coming immediately, barely able to breath between, trying not to choke, the Commissary's scrambled eggs even less appetizing now and that was saying quite a lot...

The toilet alcove was small, but Vala squeezed in behind him. Daniel wanted to tell her to get out, he could only imagine how sickened she must be, but every time he opened his mouth, what came out wasn't words.

On one level he was glad she stayed, he had never had help before. Vala flushed occasionally, handed him toilet paper to wipe in the mere seconds between heaves, kept a cool hand to his sweaty forehead.

The agony seemed never ending, Daniel retched so long he was convinced Vala's hand was all that kept him from pitching face-first into the horrible mess, his stomach roiling until only burning bile came up, searing his throat, mouth and nose, and through it all, his head never stopped the vicious throb.

At the end all he could do was hang onto the porcelain with shaking hands, coughing, gagging and spitting weakly.

"Is it over, darling?" came Vala's quiet voice. "Do you feel better?"

"No," he croaked, spitting one last time and hauling himself up onto quivering legs. He stumbled to the sink. Using one unsteady hand, he cupped water from the faucet, and rinsed and spat, rinsed and spat for a long time. Vala passed him his toothbrush, pre-loaded with toothpaste, and with murmured thanks he brushed the nasty grit of bile out of his mouth, brushing even his tongue, cautiously so as not to trigger his gag reflex.

After yet another round of rinsing and spitting, Daniel was finally able to answer the alien woman fully, his voice hoarse, his tongue feeling thick and clumsy: "No, no better. That's the joy of a migraine. The nausea never goes away. It's not like food poisoning, when you get rid of the bad stuff and feel better. This is the gift that just keeps giving."

Putting the toothbrush away he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror, flinching at the specter he presented: eyes like dark wounds in a face white as bone; he looked like a day-old corpse.

Using the vanity like a crutch, Daniel began his long trek back to bed, hobbling on shaky legs out of the bathroom. He launched himself unsteadily from the door frame, shuffled one step of the seemingly vast distance to the bed when Vala took his arm, the strong and active woman supporting him easily, a small part of him jealous of her vitality, but most of him extremely grateful for her help.

***

The time until sundown was spent pretty much the same. Vala would refresh his icepack, she'd read another chapter or so, and then Daniel would lurch up and run for the bathroom. His third bout at the toilet, however, was not as bad as usual; he remembered times when he heaved so hard on an empty stomach he thought he'd get an aneurism.

It was dark now outside behind the closed blinds when Daniel hobbled back to bed with Vala's help. He curled up onto his left side, scrunching his blanket up against his chest to act as support for his arm, totally wrung out.

"Do you need a new icepack?" Vala asked.

"No, thanks. I think I'll be okay for while, try and get some sleep." He did feel marginally better, head still pounding but not quite as bad as earlier. The distraction of Vala talking and the endless supply of icepacks seemed to have helped.

"Shall I keep you company for a while or do you want to be alone?"

"You could stay," he said, twitching his right shoulder in a shrug. "If you want. It's nice, uh, I mean I don't mind you here."

"Good, because I've been meaning to ask you about that torn up old blanket you seem to be using as a teddy bear."

He squinted out a vicious glare, but she only continued to regard him with sympathetic curiosity. Besides, how vicious could a man clutching a blankie really be? "It's... I've had it forever. It's followed me to every placement and foster home and dormitory I've been to."

Vala studied the worn cloth and faded flowers. "Was it your mother's?" she asked softly.

"I, uh, I don't know, I wish I did," he said, too washed out to even think about watching his words, hiding his emotions the way he usually would. "I'm pretty sure I already had it when I left the first temporary placement after my parents died, but I don't remember how I got it. My parents' effects? A caseworker? My grandfather?" He sighed. "Maybe a foster mom gave it to me later and I just got the timeline mixed up." He twitched his shoulder in another shrug, feeling the worn flannel rub against his cheek. "Stupid, I know, but it's been one of the few constants in my life."

"Not stupid at all," Vala contradicted gently. "We all need reminders of the comfort of childhood."

She picked up the book again and began to read, her voice softer than ever. Daniel tried to push his pain to the back of his mind, to concentrate on Christopher's determination to question his neighbors about the dog and the autistic boy's bravery as he stepped out of his comfort zone in an effort to help someone else. At some point the words and Vala's voice mixed and tumbled together into nonsense and Daniel fell into a fitful dose.

***

Daniel surfaced from sleep for a few vague minutes sometime later. He could still hear Vala speaking but not to him, she seemed to be talking quietly on her phone, pausing occasionally to listen to the other side of the conversation.

"He's finally asleep. ... Yes, it truly is _dreadful_ for him, Samantha, I wish I could do more. ... It's not fair that he should suffer so much with something that has no cure. ... I think it's still there, he's frowning in his sleep." After this pause to listen she gave a soft laugh. "I know, he's so cute! All curled up, you should see him!"

He wasn't cute, he was a grown man, he thought dazedly. And of course he was frowning, he was in pain. Daniel wanted to stop frowning and give them a piece of his mind...although that would probably make him frown all the more...

Vala gave another quiet chuckle, saying, "Good idea."

As his muddled mind puzzled through his 'frowning' conundrum he thought he heard a click, then Vala was moving away, her voice fading and Daniel was immediately pulled back down into sleep.

***

The next day was similar to the first, except more boring. He only had one more bout of nausea, but the pain, while marginally better, still held him in its grip.

Between breaks to rest her voice and refresh his icepack, Vala continued reading the book. The plot had thickened as Christopher uncovered clues about his mother's whereabouts. As much as he usually shunned fiction, Daniel found himself enjoying this odd coming-of-age story of a teenager hampered by his differences, autism in this case.

Daniel even reconsidered his old conviction that he should avoid talking while sick with a migraine. He and Vala had a few spirited discussions: what qualifies as a disability and what responsibility society has to the disabled; a parent's duty to his child and if deception could ever be justified.

"You know Christopher's difficulty understanding 'normal' people and their turns of phrases reminds me of you, Vala," Daniel teased at one point when Vala had paused for a sip of water.

"And his pathological intolerance of disorder reminds me of you, Daniel," Vala shot back without a pause.

"There's disorder and then there's chaos," Daniel huffed.

"Hmm."

***

Around noon Vala took a lunch break. When she came back to the bedroom holding a glass of bubbly ice water she announced she had found an ancient but unopened bottle of Italian seltzer in the depths of Daniel's cabinets.

Daniel eyed the glass doubtfully. "Um, I'm not sure if my stomach can handle that."

"It's good for overhangs, why not your migraine?"

"That's hangovers, and I'm not simply queasy, it's more than that."

"You need to drink something or you'll get dehydrated, so what does it hurt to try this?"

"Um, nothing. I guess..." Still glowering suspiciously, he drank a few swallows. It felt pretty good going down his parched throat

"And a few crackers." Vala produced a plate of crackers like a magician producing a rabbit out of a hat.

"I don't want to--"

"Eat them." Vala ordered, her eyes turning steely again. "You need the salt and you need something in your stomach."

He glowered again, but her expression was unrelenting. Well, it was true that if vomiting was in his near future, better crackers than bile.

Daniel munched obediently at the bland crackers, alternating with sips of the soda water, while Vala read another chapter, snagging a couple crackers for herself. She made a point of chewing with her mouth closed before continuing to read. Daniel felt a childish urge to smack his lips and stick his cracker-coated tongue out at her, but was too afraid of increasing his queasiness for that, so settled for a mild eye-roll.

When he'd polished off the plate he felt...better. Definitely better. The headache was still there and he still felt loopy as hell, but at least the nausea wasn't rolling through him like noxious ocean swells.

"Um, thanks for the idea, Vala. I really do feel better."

Vala's smile was as bright as sunshine and twice as dazzling. "You're welcome, darling."

She took the plate and glass away, and Daniel lay back against the piled up pillows, thinking that headache or no, Vala's smile would never bring him pain no matter how dazzlingly bright.

***

In the afternoon Vala gave her voice a rest, turning on the stereo in the living room and cranking the volume so they could hear it from the bedroom. She picked out an old opera CD that Jack had given Daniel ages ago: 'The Magic Flute' by Mozart. Vala sat down on her chair beside him, reading the libretto and following along with the English translation while Daniel listened to the German.

When it was over (and Vala had declared her favorite character to be the villainous Queen of the Night; disturbing, but Daniel was trying not to think about it), Vala left Daniel alone for a time after giving him a fresh icepack. He guessed she went to have a bite to eat, if the sound of the kitchen cabinets being opened and closed was any clue. Daniel lay quietly, absentmindedly enjoying the bustling sounds that indicated he wasn't alone, that someone else was sharing this space, this home with him. That was an increasingly rare occasion in his life these days.

When Vala returned to remove the ice, he was feeling a bit drowsy. She checked his forehead, then cocked her head as if at a new thought. "How about a massage, Daniel? I could massage your head, wouldn't that help?"

He shook his head carefully. "No, massage just increases the blood flow," he explained. "I need the opposite: I need the blood and heat to flow away from my head and to the extremities."

"So I'll massage your hands and feet," she announced briskly.

"What? No, I don't need that--"

But Vala had already flipped his flannel blanket back and, sitting on the bottom corner of the bed and grabbing his left foot, she began her massage.

Daniel sat up, flushing with embarrassment as the alien woman fondled his bare skin. "You don't need...need...oh god that feels incredible..." His head flopped back onto the pillow like a marionette with its strings cut and he melted into the sensuous pleasure of those strong capable hands manipulating his tight muscles, wringing the tension out of them. "How did you learn that?" he sighed in awe.

"My stepmother," Vala answered flatly. "She said it was the only thing I was good for."

"Adria?"

"Yes."

Daniel sighed with gratification again, sinking down into a dreamy hedonistic haze. "She was wrong," he murmured. "You're good for a whole lot more."

Vala froze her movements, but started up again almost immediately without comment.

"Although you _are_ really good at this," he assured her in a muzzy mumble. "Thank you, Vala."

"You're welcome, Daniel," she said warmly.

By the time she'd moved her massage to his hands Daniel lay boneless with contentment, the sharp pain in his head receding to a dull throb. As he drifted to sleep, he thought he felt lips press in a soft kiss against the back of his hand...but no, why would Vala do that? That would be crazy...

***

When Daniel woke from his nap it was dark outside. He felt muddle-headed, like he was hungover, and knew this meant the migraine was loosening its grip on him at last, the pain dulling increment by increment. He looked over to find Vala sitting in the chair she'd been using.

When she noticed he'd awoken she put the magazine she was reading down (it looked like one of his many 'Smithsonian' back issues) and gave him a smile. "Hey, welcome back. Feeling any better?"

"That chair looks uncomfortable," he responded, his words slow and deliberate.

Vala raised her brows in surprise. "Nice non sequitur, darling, but no, the chair's fine."

"No, I know it's uncomfortable," he stated firmly. "I bought it, remember?" he added quite reasonably.

Vala's lips pressed together as if she was trying not to smile, although Daniel didn't know why that would be. "Of course you did, darling," she conceded.

"Come onto the bed," he said.

"The bed," she repeated, her brows going higher than ever.

"Yeah."

"You want me to lay down on a bed with you," she stated in disbelief. "A _small_ bed."

"Sure, why not?"

Vala rose to her feet hesitantly, as if being tempted by something she couldn't resist. "All right, but don't blame me tomorrow when you come to you senses."

Daniel had no idea what she was talking about and merely scooched over, patting the bed to his right.

Vala piled the pillows up against her half of the headboard and sat down beside him. He continued to lay on his back, but let his head roll to watch her through half-lidded eyes. She read another chapter of 'The Curious Incident,' but he barely followed it, simply content to watch her lovely face, listen to her sweet voice.

After a chapter or two she glanced over at him, studying his face suspiciously. "Are you actually listening, darling?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you bored with Christopher's adventures?"

"Whose adventures?"

"The main character--" Vala broke off with a shake of her head, smirking as she closed the book and set it aside. "Why don't we pick this up again tomorrow. I think you need to rest now."

Daniel didn't answer her at first, simply continuing to lay there and stare. Then he announced, "You're the little girl with the little curl."

Vala blinked. "What?"

"You remind me of the little girl with the little curl," he amplified.

An indulgent smile tugged at the corner of Vala's mouth. Daniel wasn't sure what was supposed to be so amusing, but he was too woozy to care. And he wasn't about to argue when a smile curved of those beautiful lips.

"Little girl, little curl," Vala drawled. "I got that part. Please tell me more."

Softly and carefully, his eyes fastened on hers, Daniel recited the old Longfellow poem:

"There was a little girl,  
  Who had a little curl,  
Right in the middle of her forehead.  
When she was good  
She was very good indeed.  
  But when she was bad she was _horrid_."

Vala seemed to be rendered speechless, a rarity. She stared at him, her eyes wide with question, her smile incredulous.

"That's you," he explained with a lopsided smile.

"Is it?"

"I like you when you're good," Daniel assured her. Then he continued in a solemn whisper, "But here's the secret: I like you when you're bad too."

Vala's smile faded at this, but her expression turned so open, so caring that Daniel didn't mind. Satisfied, his eyes drifted closed, his breathing evened out, his stupor dropped him smoothly into slumber.

"Likewise, Daniel," he thought he heard Vala whisper as he slipped away. "Likewise."

***

He slept hard, the way he usually did in the aftermath of a migraine. There was one moment, though, one drowsy moment in the middle of the night when Daniel came half-awake, thinking with dreamy satisfaction how nice it was to sleep with someone again, to snuggle into warmth and not be alone. Then he drifted back to sleep.

***

Daniel woke in late morning, alone in his bed--

Wait, of course he woke alone. When did he ever wake any other way? Why would he think...?

Oh crap. Because he had invited Vala into his bed last night.

Vala was gone from beside him now, however, his arm stretching across empty space. He checked the depression where she had lain and it was cool to the touch. Maybe she hadn't stayed long. Maybe she'd gone back to the spare room once he drifted off. A vague memory tugged at his conscious mind, something about thinking how nice it was to have the warmth of another person in his bed. He hadn't...? Nah, he wasn't a snuggler, that was silly, it was just a dream.

The reciting poetry part, however, Daniel was pretty sure _that_ was not a dream. Good god, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow? Really?

Vala entered the room to find him sitting up cross-legged in the tangled blankets, scratching his head as he yawned.

"How are you feeling?" she asked.

He squinted up at her, studying her face for a secretive smirk, but not finding it. Vala didn't look any different from her usual gorgeous self--um, her _regular_ self. Hmm, SGC-issue tank-tops had never looked so good...

He came to as Vala waved a hand in his face, one brow arched sardonically. "Tau'ri-Home-Planet to Daniel," she teased. "How are you feeling?"

"Oh. Um..." Daniel turned his attention inward, realizing the migraine pain had slacked off considerably. The joy of being almost pain-free filled him, a joy that most people, himself included for the most part, took completely for granted. He perked up with a smile. "Wow. A lot better. I think the worst is over."

Vala gave her trademark grin. "That's wonderful, darling. Do you think you could keep some food down?"

"Yes, I think so," he said. She didn't seem inclined to mention the whole inviting-her-to-bed thing he realized with relief. So if she didn't, he sure wouldn't.

"Why don't I make a quick run to the store, then? I could do with some fresh fruit and you're all out."

"Okay. There's a little market two blocks east."

Vala left him sitting there on his bed, relishing his return to good health. But when the front door closed behind her and the sound of the Wagoneer's engine faded down the road, the most ridiculous thing happened.

He missed her. Daniel missed having Vala in his house, the sound of her voice, the bustle as she moved around, the scent of her flowery perfume. And that was silly, obviously. He had lived alone for ten years, how could she have made such a profound impact in just a couple days?

Plainly absurd.

In an attempt to occupy himself, Daniel hauled himself to his feet and stripped his bed, finding that his old flannel blanket had slid off to lay forgotten on the floor. He shrugged, gathering everything up and loading it into the washing machine. Next he took a greatly needed shower, feeling something approaching to human again as he got dressed, the pain receding now almost as fast as it had come on two days earlier.

When he heard Vala return, Daniel had just finished tying his shoes and he sternly ordered himself to not go running out to greet her like a lovesick teenager. So if he walked a tad quickly to the kitchen, well, he just wanted to, um...see what fruit she had bought.

"Still feeling better?" Vala asked as he walked up to the living room side of the kitchen bar. She set a bag of apples down on the counter.

"Yep. Ninety percent better," he announced.

She laughed. "How very precise of you, Dr. Jackson."

He smiled. "Maybe even 95 percent. Still a few twinges, but it's pretty much over, thank god."

"Think you could keep some food down?"

"Yes, please. I'm starved."

"An apple and crackers coming right up."

"More crackers?" he protested. "But I'm feeling better!"

"Tastier crackers, I promise. And don't whine, it doesn't suit you." Vala glanced at his face and smirked. "The pouting on the other hand, that's rather sweet."

"I don't pout," Daniel stated, crossing his arms.

"Debatable, darling. Now sit," she instructed, pointing at one of the bar stools.

Daniel obeyed with a smile, watching as the alien woman cut up an apple for him. He liked watching her work in his kitchen. Not in the whole 'barefoot-and-pregnant' way, he assured himself, but just how she had made herself at home, taking over his space and making it her own. Bringing some life and color into his staid and boring house.

Vala popped a slice into her own mouth, then laid the rest in a bowl for him. Daniel took one gratefully, relishing the juicy crunch of apple, his first bit of non-bland food in 48 hours. He ate in silence for an appreciative minute, watching Vala put her groceries away, thinking he would have to make sure she came back here for a meal soon in order to use everything she'd bought. To say nothing of finishing reading the book they had started together.

"I guess we can leave for the SGC anytime you're ready," he said, gulping down a glass of the last of the soda water Vala poured for him.

"Oh. Okay." She seemed momentary subdued by that but continued chatting before he could be sure. "I was using your laptop earlier," she began.

"Of course you were. I mean it's not like I have it password protected or anything."

She laughed. "Yes, and you use the same super-secret password for everything you do."

Daniel glared at her as he set down his empty glass. "Who can remember more than one stupid word at a time?"

"Says the man who knows over twenty languages," Vala observed. "Anyhow, I read up on migraines on the inter-web, and it says there are triggers, foods or activities that can bring on the headache, and you need to stay away from them."

"Absolutely," he agreed. "If only I knew what they were."

"Oh. Well, maybe Carolyn could help you identify them."

"I try to stay away from Dr. Sunshine as much as possible."

Vala snickered as she opened a box of crackers. "You know Cameron calls _you_ that."

"Yeah." He shrugged, swallowing down the last of the apple slices. "I guess maybe the good doctor and I are two of a kind."

Vala froze in the act of taking one packet of crackers out of the box. "Are you?" she asked, her voice suddenly dropping about twenty degrees below freezing.

Daniel looked up to see Vala aiming a purse-lipped glare at the defenseless crackers. She wrenched the packet open, pulverizing a few in the process, then dumped them onto a plate. She banged the plate down in front of Daniel, catching his finger in the process.

"Ow!" he protested, pulling his finger out and shaking it, staring at her in bewilderment.

"I'm sorry, did I hurt you?" Vala asked through gritted teeth, voice dripping with false solicitude. "Maybe you should pay Dr. Sunshine a visit." She stalked away. "Or better yet, she could pay you a _house-call,_ " she shouted over her shoulder.

Daniel was left sitting at the kitchen counter with his finger stuck in his mouth and plateful of mangled crackers. "Um...what just happened here?" he asked the empty air.

It was almost like Vala was jealous. But that couldn't be true, could it? Jealous? It was impossible. Daniel bored Vala and Vala irritated Daniel. What kind of a basis for a relationship was that?

Although actually Vala hadn't really irritated Daniel these last couple days, surprisingly enough. She'd been so helpful when he was sick and so interesting to talk to the rest of the time. And Vala hadn't really acted bored. She seemed to really enjoy their discussions about 'The Curious Incident' and the opera they'd listened to.

But nevertheless, it couldn't _really_ be jealously. He was reading too much into the situation. No, she was just peeved because he hadn't thanked her properly.

Daniel shoveled down a quick couple handfuls of crackers (well, he was _hungry_ ), then went looking for Vala. He found her sitting in the spare bedroom on the futon, motionless, staring at her folded clothes. When she saw him, she sprang to life, making a show of shoving a stack of shirts into her neon pink duffle.

"Vala, um, I want to thank you," Daniel said tentatively, standing in the doorway with his hands in his pockets. "I know I was...a little resistant to you helping me, but that's just because..."

"You're a pompous ass?" She zipped the duffle closed with a vicious flick.

"Um...yeah, pretty much."

Her arch look softened to sympathy, and she dropped the bag to the floor, standing up to face him. "It's all right, Daniel. I saw the pain you were in. I don't like the idea of your ever having gone through that alone."

"I really am grateful," he said earnestly. "You took what I'm pretty sure would've been four days of agony and turned it into only two days of, um, not as much agony. I'm really glad that it was you who came."

"Sure you wouldn't have preferred Dr. Sunshine?"

"God, no. She's a grouch. She wouldn't even put me in a coma."

"Oh, I think I know a thing or two about putting you in a coma," Vala purred, shimmying up to him with a sly smile. "Maybe next time we're here alone together I can show you."

"Uh...yeah...?" he responded blankly, unable to keep up with her sudden changes of mood.

Vala's smoky grey eyes fastened on his like a laser, and she drew closer still until her full red lips hovered just inches away from his, Daniel helpless to do more than blink in confusion.

"Next time," Vala repeated in a whisper, the heat from her breath washing over his skin like a promise.

Then she was patting his cheek and whirling away, grabbing her bags and brushing past him out the room.

He stood there a minute longer, trying to figure out what had just happened. She really was the little girl with the little curl he reflected in a daze: all kinds of wonderful wrapped up in a prickly and dangerously beautiful package.

Then he gave up on it, joined her out at his car and let her drive him back to the SGC.

***

Late that afternoon Daniel sat in his office, happily headache-free and thinking over the events of the past couple days.

Vala had certainly proven herself to be more than Daniel had thought: kind, competent, patient. Well, that wasn't really fair to either of them: of course Vala was capable of those qualities, she'd shown them often enough in the time they'd been teammates. And of course he already knew that, that's why he advocated for her inclusion in SG-1 in the first place.

It was just that he had never expected her to demonstrate those qualities towards _him_. Usually all she had for him were cruel jabs and complaints of boredom. Then again all Daniel usually had for her were irritated eye-rolls and complaints about her impetuosity.

Maybe they had moved beyond that. Maybe this proved there could be more for them now...

Daniel shook his head, trying to bring his wandering attention back to work. He logged onto SG-1's private team email account, intending to query Mitchell about their next mission when he saw that Vala had just posted something.

Curious, he clicked and opened it, scanning it quickly. She apparently had a couple new mission photos to share, something about an indigenous lifeform in its native habitat? And she must have gotten mixed up because her mission timestamp cited the past two days. She wasn't on a mission, she was at his house. Confused, he clicked on the attachment, waiting for it to download.

She must have meant their last mission, he decided, although he couldn't image what new insights she had from it, it had been a bit boring, even to him. But this just went to show how levelheaded she was being lately.

Daniel pursed his lips in an unconscious pout. Almost _too_ levelheaded. He'd never tell her, but he kind of missed how mischievous Vala usually...

The pics had loaded, two of them shining out from his screen in all their glory, his mouth dropping open in horror.

The first showed Daniel curled up in his bed, sound asleep, arms wrapped around his tatty old flannel blanket. The caption read: "Here a native male reclines in his nest. Don't let his adorable frown fool you, note the comfort he takes in his warm fluffy blankie."

That was bad enough, but the second picture... _oh god._

The second was what Daniel had heard referred to as a 'selfie': Vala, reclining on Daniel's bed and holding her camera phone out at arm's length, had caught herself in the foreground, grinning wildly. In the background was Daniel himself, asleep again and--oh god, it hadn't been a dream. He _had_ cuddled up to Vala in his sleep, throwing an arm over her stomach and snuggling his face against her shoulder.

The caption read: "Looks like a blankie's not good enough for this male anymore."

Daniel sprang to his feet, dashed out of the office and hit the hallway at a dead run. " _VALA!!_ "

-end-

 

 

 


End file.
